by Sylvia Day
She sighed. “Who knows? Maybe if you’d asked me out when I first got back, I might have said yes. Maybe I wouldn’t have. We’ll never know. It’s a moot point right now. I’m working. So are you. And I’m presently involved with someone.”
“Involved?” he snorted. “He’s passing through, Darcy. Don’t forget that.”
“I haven’t, but you seem to have or your boxers wouldn’t be in a twist and we wouldn’t be having this conversation. We’re going to collar our torch, Chris, and everything is going to go back to the way it was, then you’ll be embarrassed over this conversation. Let’s put it behind us.”
Jared walked out of the building. “Everything all right?”
“Everything’s fine,” Darcy said. “Sheriff Miller just wanted to offer his assistance.”
“You get Deputy Morales the list of part-time residents, Sheriff?”
Chris straightened and shoved his hat back on his head. “Your partner’s got everything she asked for.”
“Good.” Jared bared his teeth in a semblance of a smile. “Morales will let you know if we need anything further.”
She waited until Chris had driven away to say, “See? You underestimated yourself. You worked with him just fine…without your fists.”
“He managed not to talk too much.” He looked at her. “But he was laying it on thick for you. You handled that well.”
Shrugging, she moved to the truck. “That wasn’t his style. This case is really getting to him, I guess.”
“Or the thought of you with another man is.” He opened the passenger door and paused, looking at her. With one arm draped on the roof of the cab and the other resting on the window frame, he looked casual, relaxed, and extremely delicious. “You know, being so easygoing with your brush-offs make them harder to accept.”
“Why?”
“Because women are supposed to be emotional. Pissed off, vengeful, sad…whatever. Something. Brushing a man off like a gnat makes us realize we never got to you at all. Or that we were much too easy to get over.”
“That’s sexist.”
“Maybe. No one’s ever accused me of being PC.” He pushed his sunglasses up, revealing cool blue eyes that scorched her. “I want to go to Seattle, take a look around the area where the tipster placed his phone call. And I want to take you to lunch. Since it’s your day off, it’s not a problem for you to get away, is it?”
“No.” And she wouldn’t have to wear her uniform. She was looking forward to hitting him with something flirty. “I just need to change my clothes and my ride.”
His slow, sexy smile did a number on her. She stood there a moment, absorbing the sensation of being so highly attracted to a man. Not just physically, but in every way. He’d called her easygoing and she thought that was true. She’d long avoided drama with men and anyone who was high maintenance. But her irritable lover wasn’t scaring her away. She wanted more of him, the good and the bad, the rough and the smooth.
“Ready?” he asked.
“No,” she said honestly, “but that’s not stopping me.”
chapter eight
Jared wondered what the hell he’d gotten himself into when Darcy came out of the house. She’d changed into a strappy, fitted red dress that bared toned arms and lithe legs that ended in heeled sandals. Her dark hair drifted around her shoulders, and she’d touched up her eyes and lips with a light application of cosmetics.
His breath caught. More than her physical attractiveness, it was her sultry confidence that riveted him, the indefinable essence of her that so perfectly aligned with something deep inside him.
“Are you still there, Cameron?” Supervisory Deputy Holt asked through his cell phone’s speaker.
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry.”
“We’ve pulled the photos and video from the surveillance cameras around the payphone. They’re not very helpful. The subject wore a hooded sweatshirt and kept his head down, but they’re being e-mailed to you. Maybe one of the locals will see something familiar in the body language.”
“We’ll run it through. Thanks.” He straightened as Darcy reached him. “I’m going to visit the location myself. I want to time the trip and see if something in the vicinity jumps out at me. It’s possible he picked the payphone at random, but just in case, I’ll check it out.”
“Send me an updated report by morning.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He killed the call, shoved the phone in his pocket, and caught Darcy by the hips to pull her close. “You look amazing.”
“Thank you, Deputy.” She accepted the compliment with an easy self-assurance.
A heartbreaker, he thought grimly. The kind of woman a man was never sure he possessed completely. That aloofness stirred his most primal proprietary instincts, and he was slightly irritated that he was no more immune to her allure than any other member of the male species.
But then she’d confessed today that they were “involved,” and she wasn’t the type of woman to use one man as an excuse to extricate herself from another. For now, she was his. It was up to him to decide if he wanted to keep her, and if he did, take the steps necessary to make that happen.
“You’re scowling at me,” she pointed out wryly, her cool fingertips smoothing the line between his brows.
“Sorry.”
“What’s wrong?”
Jared shook his head. “You’re perfect, Darcy. Just the sort of uncomplicated and undemanding female a guy like me hopes to pass some time with. It’s driving me fuckin’ crazy.”
“That makes absolutely no sense,” she said wryly.
“Tell me about it. Kiss me.”
“All right. Don’t move.”
He forced himself to relax. “Go for it.”
Stepping closer, she brushed her mouth across his. The kiss was soft as a butterfly’s wings, barely there. Her tongue darted out, licking the seam of his lips, dipping just a tiny bit inside. He groaned, fighting the urge to drag her close and take over. He wanted her to give to him whatever she chose, however much she chose.
Her hands went to his shoulders, then the one not holding her little clutch purse cupped his nape. Her head tilted and she sealed her mouth over his. She deepened the kiss, unraveling him stitch by stitch. He couldn’t say why, couldn’t figure it out. She was a pretty woman he’d met twenty-four hours before. They’d fucked like feral rabbits, which should’ve worked her right out of his system. Physically, he’d been thoroughly satisfied. Yet he couldn’t catch his breath because of a chaste kiss. His lungs heaved and burned, his heart pounded violently.
Pressing her forehead to his, Darcy exchanged gasping breaths with him. “I need you to touch me.”
He heard the tremulous note in her voice and caught her close, banding one arm around her hips and rubbing his hand up and down her back. He wondered if she’d ever really needed anything from any man. What twist of fate had aligned his ferocious need to take her with her unrealized need to be taken?
“Are we a pair or what?” he murmured with his lips to her crown.
“We’re something.”
“Yeah.” Jared rubbed his cheek against the top of her head. “We’re something.”
THROUGH THE LENS of his camera, Jared stood on the street corner and photographed every possible angle from the phone booth.
“Seems so wide open,” Darcy said. “Where do you take an investigation from here?”
He lowered the camera. “Cross-check local businesses with Lion’s Bay residents. Check cab fares from that day and time and this general vicinity. He probably drove, but maybe he was cautious enough to take a cab from a parking garage to somewhere nearby. Of course, if he’s that careful, he probably paid cash, but we’ll tie off that thread to be sure.”
She looked at him grimly. “You’re keeping yourself busy while we wait for him to strike again.”
“Building a case.” He put the cap back on the lens and put the camera back in its bag. “I’m done. Hungry?”
“There’s a great little café around the corner, although we
might have to wait a bit for a seat.”
“Let’s go.” He caught her hand and led her straight to the restaurant. It was crowded, with a line out front and a harried-looking hostess who instantly brightened when she saw him.
“Jared.” Tiffany smiled and grabbed a menu. “Just in time for your reservation.”
He felt Darcy’s grip tighten on his and knew she caught the undercurrent of familiarity. He didn’t have a reservation, but Tiffany always found a spot at the counter for him…and time after work when he was in the mood for more than food.
“For two,” he pointed out gently, pulling Darcy up to his side.
Tiffany’s brows rose and her smile widened. “Absolutely.”
“Uncomplicated and undemanding?” Darcy asked softly, following his urging to precede him to their table.
“Yes.” And suddenly far less appealing. Not that he didn’t note and appreciate Tiffany’s beauty. It just didn’t hold his attention. Instead, he found himself focused on the number of stares directed at Darcy. She looked like a million dollars and carried herself as if she was worth ten times that.
God, she was fucking hot as hell.
And he had it bad for her.
Jared pulled out her chair and took the one next to her rather than across the table. The smile she gave him was warm and it stayed warm as she accepted the menu from Tiffany.
“I know exactly what I’m getting,” she announced when they were alone.
“Do you come here often?”
“Only a couple times, but Jim ordered this phenomenal pasta once. I’ve been dying to get a plate of my own ever since.”
Jared set his camera on the table and made sure that when he spoke his voice was smooth and unchallenging. “I’m still not getting the Jim thing.”
She set her menu aside. “Back in high school, Jim was the hot older guy all the girls crushed on, and he was a fireman, which made him even sexier. When I moved back to Lion’s Bay, some of that adolescent infatuation was still there. Turned out he’d thought I was pretty hot, too, but I’d been jail bait before. We had unfinished business, so we wrapped it up. Like I said, it was never serious.”
“Have you had any serious relationships?” He knew something had to be the catalyst that drew her back to Lion’s Bay.
Her lips pursed as she considered the question. “I’ve had long-term boyfriends, but I’ve never been engaged. Have you?”
Leaning back in his seat, he shook his head. “I’m a busy guy, Darcy. I mostly work this region, but I’m also a SOG deputy—the Marshals Service’s Special Operations Group—which means I’m on call to go anywhere at any time. I haven’t had any serious relationships. My last long-term girlfriend was back in high school and that lasted less than a year. I don’t have commitment issues, but I haven’t met anyone who was worth the inconvenience of trying to get a relationship off the ground.” He took a slow, deep breath. “Until now.”
She stared at him, her gaze darting over his face. Their waiter approached and Darcy ordered, then turned her attention to laying her napkin across her lap as he did the same.
He didn’t say anything when they were alone again, thinking he’d lobbed the ball into her court and she could either keep it in play or drop it. Maybe the duration of the case was all he’d get from her. He wondered if staying out of her bed would make it easier to walk away at the end or harder. It wasn’t a situation he’d faced before. So he asked her, because he suspected she knew. Not from her point of view, but from the perspective of the other guys in her life who’d wanted the piece of her she kept to herself.
“If I stop fucking you,” he asked in a low, even tone, “will it be easier to stop wanting you?”
Twisting in her seat, she faced him. “I’m not sure what you’re proposing, Jared. More of this?” She gestured at the interior of the restaurant with a sweep of her hand. “More dates? Or just an understanding that we’ll have sex occasionally when the mood strikes and we’re in the vicinity of each other? Actually, aren’t they both the same thing when a relationship is too erratic to be steady? One just comes with food and/or entertainment, while the other allots that bonus time to fucking instead.”
“How the hell am I supposed to know what to ask for? I’ve never done this before.” He drummed his fingertips into the tablecloth and tried to figure it out.
“Jared.” Her voice had the slow, conciliatory note of someone about to impart bad news. “I don’t think we can have a casual relationship. The attraction between us…it’s too intense.”
“I figured that out when the first sight of you hit me like a two-by-four between the eyes. Listen…I’m not talking about fitting you into my life as it is. I’m talking about changing things to fit around you.”
“Making me a priority?”
“Yes.” He held her gaze. “With the expectation that you’ll make the same effort for me.”
“Maybe you should wait a few more days before you decide I’m not going to lose my appeal.”
“Don’t start playing games. It insults both of us.”
She exhaled in a rush. “Sorry. You freak me out. And the really scary part is I don’t care. As freaked out as I am, it’s not enough to get me to blow you off.”
“Good.” The rush of relief he felt almost made him dizzy. “So we make it work.”
“It’s going to be work. A lot of it. We’re too volatile. Too…greedy.”
“Like a thirst you can’t quite quench,” he agreed softly. “The flip side being that every time you take a drink, it’s the best fucking thing you’ve ever tasted. If that’s not worth working for, what is?”
Darcy set a hand over her tummy and offered a tremulous smile. “Yes. I suppose you’re right.”
The rest of lunch became a slow exploration of the basics of who they both were. Jared talked about SOG—the Shadow Stalkers, as they were called—and some of the experiences he’d had that he could share. He told her about his sister, Casey, who fell in love every other day and was unable to keep a secret to save her life.
For his efforts, Darcy talked about growing up in Lion’s Bay, with most of her anecdotes featuring her sister, Danielle. He learned quickly that he’d pegged the sisters right. Darcy was the troublemaker; Danielle was the good girl.
Jared was sorry when the meal ended, wishing the day was already over so he could take her home to bed. The sharp bite of lust for her was always with him, but it was the sense that he was really inside her when they made love that he craved. She was cool and collected everywhere…except in bed with him. When he was inside her, he knew he had all of her. Every fascinating centimeter of her.
“I’m going to freshen up before we go,” she said when the check came.
“Meet you outside?”
“Sure.”
He’d just shouldered his way past the dwindling line at the front when his cell phone rang. Pulling it out, he didn’t recognize the number. “Cameron.”
“Deputy Cameron, Special Agent Michelle Kelley here. Your partner left a message that you had some questions for me.”
“Agent Kelley, yes. Thanks for getting back to me so quickly. I wanted to ask you about your impressions of Lion’s Bay and its residents, particularly anyone who struck you oddly.”
She snorted. “It’s a small town, Deputy. Everyone there is a bit odd in one way or another.”
“Right. Small town. What are the odds that two sets of Feds would end up there, investigating crimes with known MOs?”
“Zilch,” Kelley said bluntly. “But the MO of our Unsub was off. The basics were textbook perfect. It was the details that deviated to an unacceptable degree. I liked the mystery boyfriend, but we never got close to him. Never even dug up a name. In a town that small, where everyone knows everything, no one knew the victim had a man in her life. Not even the sister, who was—by all accounts—very close to her. But then, she hadn’t known the victim was six weeks pregnant, either.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah, got to me, t
oo. I don’t see how this is helpful to you, though.”
“Maybe it isn’t.” He adjusted his grip on his camera. “The arsonist is familiar with the area. He’s got a local’s knowledge, but no one is pointing any fingers. I thought maybe someone might’ve rubbed you the wrong way, give me someone to look at.”
“I’m sorry, Deputy. I wish I had something for you, but the residents of that town gave up nothing. That case still haunts me. What was done to the victim…She was so young and pretty. A vet, for God’s sake. Lived in Lion’s Bay her whole—”
“A veterinarian?” The sounds of the traffic and conversations faded from Jared’s perception, leaving a stunned silence. “Michaels?”
